Devils Don't Disappear
by quietauthor13
Summary: It's time for monsters and humans alike to turn their backs on the sins of the past and move forward, but for some, the anguish of old mistakes waits to swallow their dreams and crumble their determination away like dust in the wind.
1. Chapter 1: Pilot

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, story, or any part of the game known as Undertale, and I doubt I could ever hope to remake it better than Toby Fox if given the chance.**_

 **Warning: Long author's note at the bottom! Important notice for all current followers as well as scheduling details included!**

A glob of white snow splattered across the young child's neck, dampening the tufts of hair sticking out from under their hat. Their entire body shuddered violently as they felt it drip down their back under their striped sweater and bulky purple jacket.

"Human!"

Frisk turned around at the sound of the booming voice to see two familiar figures trotting through the snow towards them. One of them carried a large number of boxes stacked so high that they could barely see, and the other was flicking snow off his bony fingers.

A smile breaking out on their face, Frisk hurriedly called over their shoulder, "Mom! Mom! Sans and Papyrus are here!" They ran over to the duo, bracing their legs.

"Yo, kiddo, what're ya doin'?" Sans stuffed his hand back inside his jacket pocket once it was completely free of flurries, his broad grin ever in place.

"Incoming!" Kicking up a cloud of white, the child pounced, flinging their body towards the shorter skeleton.

Sans just barely had enough time to react before Frisk was plummeting to down to a rather packed snow drift. A quick step and he flitted through a minor shortcut to stand, arms outstretched, in the perfect position for Frisk to land with a dull _thump_ in his arms. He let out a sigh of relief when Frisk embraced them in a warm hug. "Easy there, kid. You never _snow_ when I'll be there to catch ya next."

Frisk giggled and wrapped their arms tighter around the bony neck. "Aw, c'mon Sans! You always catch me. Even Toriel doesn't worry about it anymore."

"I would certainly hope he was worth my trust by now."

The embracing duo turned to see a woman with fur just as white as the falling flakes rushing over. Her smile was gentle as she took in the three of them standing smiling and giddy out in the chill air.

"Hey, Tori," Sans said, setting Frisk gingerly back down. A light blue colored his cheeks as he took in her features.

"Greetings, your majesty!" Papyrus attempted to raise one arm in a wave but only managed to nearly topple his stack.

"Just Toriel, if you would. I gave up that title long ago."

The entire group lent a hand to the lanky skeleton. Even Frisk managed to get their arms around a relatively small box. But when Sans reached out to take a box, Papyrus made a point to raise the remaining boxes out of his reach. Looking down at him with narrowed eyes, the younger brother shook his head.

"Sans, I would normally scold you for your laziness, but after the hours you have been working, I, the Great Papyrus, will take it upon myself to carry your load!"

"How much have you been working?"

Sans winced at Toriel's tone. He silently cursed Papyrus' big mouth. "They've just got me working doubles up at the shop for a little while, that's all."

"Again?" Toriel began to walk back to the house, her arms now loaded up with several boxes.

"It's just for the next few weeks. No biggie." Sans trotted ahead just a bit so he could open the door for them.

"Sans, I thought we decided on you boys moving in with us so that you wouldn't have to work so much." She stomped the snow from her boots before she stepped inside. "It's begun taking its toll."

"Hey, it's just for a little while longer." He patted Frisk's head as they passed and gave them a wink. "Besides, I remember making a promise to help a certain kid with Christmas shopping. I'd like to earn a little extra cash for that trip to town."

"I thought you didn't like making promises," Toriel sighed, looking to him over her shoulder.

He placed a hand against Frisk's back to usher them inside and out of the cold. "What can I say? The kid's very persuasive."

"Toriel is right, brother." Papyrus stopped in the doorway to pass a sideways glance at his brother. "It isn't as though the Great Papyrus cannot take an extra shift myself if you want to save a little something for a little someone!"

"Thanks, bro, but I'll be fine. What're they gonna do? Work me to the—" His eye socket clinked as he winked. "— _bone_?"

Papyrus scoffed, abruptly turning away.

Inside, Sans could hear Toriel and the kid snicker. _Classics. Always worth it_ , he thought.

Stepping in, Sans made sure to shut the door behind him to keep the chill out. He couldn't stand the cold, truly. With no real insulation, it was never easy for a skeleton to stay warm without using an excess of magic. That was nothing for Papyrus who had built up a great deal of stamina with his near constant training, but for Sans, it was always too draining to try. Granted, it wouldn't have been much of a problem in Snowdin. His trusty jacket always kept him comfortable—not toasty, but comfortable, but above ground, the winters were harsher, more sporadic, and even if it were a pleasant day outside, you never could tell if the next day would drop to below freezing. Well, according to the weather men you could, but they were about as informative as Alphys' "history books" most days.

A light tugging on his jacket pulled him out of his thoughts. His peered down just a bit to see that Frisk was looking at him with uncertain eyes.

"You shouldn't work so hard for me," they said with a furrowed brow and a jutting bottom lip.

Sans chuckled, patting their hair again as they passed into the living room. The warm beige tones and plush looking furniture was doing nothing for his energy levels, but he'd be damned if Pap was going to go rifling through and unpacking all of his things just because he'd been working a little extra.

"You're all too on edge. Don't be so square about this."

"Are you really making box puns now?" Cardboard tops could be heard ripping open in the same direction as Papyrus' voice.

"Aw, Pap, they aren't so bad once you open up to them," Sans sniggered, ignoring the flustered "Nyeh," that followed. He rounded a corner and darted down a hallway where he'd heard Toriel and Papyrus go. It only took a minute to locate the two spare rooms at the end of the hall, one on either side exact opposite of each other—a couple of new, much cheaper places for the brothers to lay their heads down at night.

His brother had ducked into the one on the left while Toriel set her boxes down in the room on the right. Inside was nothing special: plain white paint on the walls, beige carpet, a small closet tucked into one wall, and a window with navy curtains set in the far wall. His dresser was set up against the wall beside the closet, and there were already a few scattered socks in one corner or another. What Sans didn't expect to see was the unfamiliar bed complete with comforter to match the curtains and all neatly made beneath the window.

"Uh, Tori, I think we got the wrong room."

"Hm?" The goat woman followed the skeleton's gaze over to the bed. A smile spread across her face as she turned back to him. "Oh, no, no. This is in fact your new room, and that is _your_ new bed."

His eye sockets shut for a moment before opening, looking back at the bed with his grin faltering. He hadn't even noticed that Frisk had come up behind him until the child had set their box down to grasp at the skeleton's cold hand. Sans found himself being tugged past Toriel and over to the bed by the smiling child who immediately flopped down so they were sitting at the foot. An inviting pat and a tilted head were all Sans needed to crawl up onto the mattress himself, still too shocked for words.

"Do you like it?" Toriel asked. She admired the two from her position crouched over a now open box.

He nodded his head, his returning grin a mix of gratitude and confusion. "Why would you spend the money for something like this?"

"Honestly, it hadn't crossed my mind until Frisk mentioned that you did not bring your bed over when Papyrus brought his." She began to pluck out odd articles of clothing, mostly plain, wrinkled shirts, and set them off to the side in a neat pile. "When we asked Papyrus about it, he told us that your bed had somehow…broke?" She crossed her eyes at him, one fuzzy ear twitching.

With a shrug, he just said, "It fell apart."

Though he knew it wasn't quite what she was looking for, she appeared satisfied with him admitting to his bed's destruction for the moment. "May it _rest_ in pieces."

Despite Frisk's groan, Sans couldn't help but laugh. Even without the door to fuel her jokes, she always managed to find a way to sneak a few into their everyday conversations.

"Pap didn't move his bed in until two days ago, though."

"That is correct." Toriel hesitated a moment, a light color appearing on her cheeks.

"We got it yesterday!" Frisk suddenly chimed, bouncing where they sat.

The little skeleton stared at the child, his pupils widening, expecting them to crack some sort of joke. Instead, they just sat there with their legs swinging over the side of the bed as they unzipped their jacket.

Frisk went to toss the jacket on the bedpost, but Toriel spied him with a severe glare.

"Where do we hang out jackets in this house?" she tutted.

The child sighed, looking down abashedly. "On the coat rack." They grabbed the fluffy article and slid off the bed. "Sorry, mom."

Once they had made their exit, Toriel stood to close the door. She laid her palm against the wood for a moment, her frame unmoving.

"Hey, what's with the sudden privacy?" Sans tried to keep his voice light, but the corners of his mouth tightened.

"Sans."

Her quiet tone made the magic pulsing through him run cold. He knew exactly what was coming, and he hated it. She shouldn't have to worry about him; she shouldn't have to worry about anything outside of her daily life, not after what she'd been through, the suffering she didn't know she'd seen.

She turned slow until she was facing the skeleton entirely. Her hands wrung about each other, and she leaned her full weight against the door. "We've all been worried about you. Papyrus says you have only been sleeping one or two hours a night and that you toss and turn constantly."

The force of her gaze was too much, and he found himself staring down at the carpet. One heel knocked back against the mattress, clacking the tarsals together noisily.

"He says that you have skipped some meals to take a few moments to rest, and that Grillby has called asking about you more than once. I thought that maybe since you were both moving here today that you might rest a bit better not having to always be working, but…"

Hearing her voice fade away, Sans risked a glance up at her. Her forehead was scrunched up, her brows furrowed. The corners of her mouth were stretching downwards to the point that he had to force himself not to teleport right in front of her and embrace her. Sudden shortcuts always surprised her in the worst of ways. But worst of all was the concern darkening her eyes. That normal bright twinkle had been overcast by a slew of grey storm clouds.

Damn if he just couldn't stand it.

"Tori." He slipped off the mattress, careful not to mess up the carefully laid out blankets. Her gaze bore into him as he made his way across the room, but he kept his eyes down until he was standing an inch from her. "Listen." White bones clutched at white fur as their fingers intertwined.

He finally raised his head, and Toriel was surprised to find that his grin was still in place in spite of his serious gesture. His eyes, too, appeared much gentler, their glow dimmed just a bit, his brow raising sympathetically.

"I will be okay." A soothing lilt wound its way through his words, and he thought he could see her eyes find a bit of their usual sparkle. "I know that my track record ain't exactly good, but you gotta trust me on this one. These extra hours are just temporary—just until the Christmas is over."

"But that is still three weeks away!"

Grip tightening around her hand, he reached up with his other to stroke her cheek, not caring that he had to stretch on his tiptoes. "I know, I know. But this is the first Christmas me and Pap get to spend with you and the kid. Hell, you should hear him talk about it."

"Language."

"Sorry."

Through the door, they could hear the muffled voices of Frisk and Papyrus, the latter's being much louder. Toriel took a moment to listen to their calm conversation, their occasional laughter, leaning her head back against the door so that her cheek was resting against the frame. Sans watched her face, enraptured as her eyes closed and her features loosened in the content he knew she only felt when surrounded by her happy family. A hum escaped her lips as another moment passed.

"I mean it, Toriel."

Her head snapped down to look at him at the sound of her full name. She gnawed the inside of her cheek in thought, looking over the skeleton's features for any form of insincerity, knowing full well he was awful at lying to her. "I suppose I can allow this, but only if you promise me that after this Christmas you will finally take some time off and get rest."

"Promise." There was no hesitation in his voice. He pressed his hand further into her cheek, watching with no small pleasure as she nuzzled into his touch. "Besides, we still gotta hit that concert you're so excited about."

"Oh, you remembered!"

"Course I did." His thumb traced her quirking lips and her rosy cheeks that burned brightly enough to be seen through her fur. "You've been talking for months about how excited you are to see Shyren and that one singer—Ellie Cura was it? And I'm not a skeleton to back out on a date with such a beautiful woman."

She giggled and leaned down to place a feathery kiss against his mouth, the feel of fur on teeth tickling them both as always. Now it was Sans' turn to blush again, his cheeks flushing vividly.

"Let's finish unpacking then," she told him. "I would rather not have your brother finish before us and…take the liberty of cooking dinner."

"That thought's enough to—" His grin turned into more of a smirk as he spoke. "—chill anyone to the _bone_."

 **To any readers who have not seen my other works:**

 **Thank you for tuning in and giving this fic a shot! There will be a great deal of both happy times and sorrowful times ahead, so buckle up, kiddies. It's time to ride the feels train!**

 **Also, I love criticism provided it is helpful. If you have any suggestions be they stylistic or plot, feel free to let me know in the reviews or my PM box!**

 **P.S. For any curious readers who look at my other fics, rest assured that there will be no sexual content in this fic unless it services the plot in a specific way, and any such mentions will only be vague insinuations. I do not write Skele-fucker, Goat-fucker, Robo-fucker, or whatever other Undertail sins you can think up. Ships? Yes. Smut? No.**

 **Stay tuned for a message after the following!**

 **To my current followers:**

 **I know that this probably isn't what you were expecting me to post after so long of being in the dark. Allow me to explain: when I came to college last year, I hit a bit of a rough patch. I kept trying to write my usual stories, but it became clear pretty early on that I wasn't finding as much joy in them as I should. Long story short, combine changes in everything, a dose of reality, and a few very personal dilemmas, and it all leads to a very, very dark road in which I didn't touch a book or pen for months at a time. Nothing felt right about writing anymore, and I'm sorry that my posting suffered for that.**

 **But thanks to my wonderful fiancé and a few very close friends, I have begun picking up the pieces and reassessing what I need to do to make myself happy, and in turn, start churning out chapters for all of you again. Rest assured that "Strength" is still going, but there will be some major revisions. I realized over the Summer that I did not like how the piece was going at all, and so I've chosen to rewrite most of the story. The main storyline will** _ **not**_ **be changing, but the pace and the attention to detail will, so don't lose hope if you haven't already! During the revision process, I will be writing and putting out this new Undertale fic as I have recently become proud Undertale trash. Also, I feel as though the particular story line I have thought out for this fic will be a very good outlet for the remainder of the depression I want to finally leave behind me while still providing something that might bring a smile to someone's face (or maybe it will cause tears…hopefully both).**

 **What I mostly want to say is that I'm sorry if I've let some people down with my lack of posting. So many of you stayed loyal to reading my work even after I wouldn't post for months at a time, and you believed in me enough to encourage me with amazing reviews and follows/favorites! Instead of rewarding that like I should have, I disappeared, and I cannot convey how sorry I truly am. From now on I will attempt to post on a regular schedule, though it could be subject to change occasionally as I now have a magical thing known as a job! ( /*o*)/ For more details on this schedule, look below at the final notification!**

 **To everyone:**

 **The posting schedule for this and many of my other stories will be provided via Tumblr. My account name is still "quietauthor13" and the name of my blog is "To Write is to Live Again and Again". It will be specifically for the purpose of posting schedules, asking questions, and posting fanart (if anyone feels the urge to get extra-creative with any stories, submissions would be more than welcome). Please, though, keep all questions and such SFW!**

 **A great thank you to all of my lovelies who stuck with me after all this time and another to those of you who gave this new fic a shot! It really means the world to me. Read, review, and enjoy! =^.^=**


	2. Chapter 2: Another Day

"Have a good day, my child."

Toriel's fur tickled Frisk's forehead as she knelt down to kiss them. Frisk's nose crinkled at the touch, but their smirk revealed their true feelings towards the monster's sentiments.

"Mom, everyone can see."

"Good." Toriel's smile widened so that the corners of her eyes wrinkled with crow's feet. "That means that everyone can see just how much you are cared for."

The sharp peal of the school bell signaled the hustle of all the other children in the hallway towards their morning classes. Soon footsteps of varying heaviness and swiftness surrounded the two as they stood outside of the Principal's office, more precisely Toriel's.

"Hurry along now!" She shoved a large, white hand against Frisk's back, urging them to join the chaos. "Remember, if you get an A in your science class, you get to pick out your first gift that goes under the tree."

Frisk gave a stoic nod, their mouth set in a determined line. They turned as much of their attention as they could muster on the swarm set loose before them, but something still nagged at the back of their mind. Much as their cheeks burned at the thought, they knew that they could not go to class until they had finished their early morning routine. Hurriedly, they spun around and planted a gentle peck on Toriel's cheek, knowing that she would be knelt down and waiting. The happy sigh that they heard made them feel somewhat less embarrassed to have such an overbearing mom—a mom that just happened to be known by every child in their school.

Then it was time to join the fray.

With their first step, they were swept away in a current of students, and each wave that crashed over them was more menacing than the last. First came the packs of girls with primly pressed skirts or low-cut blouses, their chests puffed out if they passed one of the popular boys. They weren't so bad with their sideways glances and indignant sashays past, but the vulgar gestures they received from the occasional sleepy-eyed boy and girl hit a bit harder. They could at least keep their head held high until the final wave hit. Like high tide, the larger, older kids crashed into them, purposely jolting Frisk forwards with shoves and kicks hidden by their wide strides. They felt their hair being tugged from behind, their arms and backpack being jostled by less than delicate hands, their ears prickle as snide, suspicious whispers circled around them.

"Monster bitch."

"Traitor."

"Goat fucker."

"Freak."

After the first few, it became easier for them to drown out. Soon it was no more than a hushed buzzing in the back of their mind.

Still…

They snuck a glance over the heads of some of the other students when they felt they were safe from being knocked down entirely. They were completely out of sight of Toriel's office, and she was nowhere to be seen. The thought gave Frisk a touch of contentment. Their soul was strong enough to handle such cruelty, but Toriel…they doubted she would take her child's harassment lightly.

All thoughts of that scenario were pushed out of their mind as they rounded a corner straight into their first classroom of the day. Nearly all of the seats were full already save a few near the very back. That was where the monster children sat. The more beastly they appeared, the further back they were arranged on the seating chart, and only the most humanoid in appearance had a chance of being placed any closer than the fourth row back.

Over by the far wall near the line of windows that overlooked a line of carefully trimmed trees, a small, yellow, scaly monster wriggled excitedly in his seat. Frisk shot them a smile as they stepped over to sit next to them. Almost all of the backseats were taken by monsters. Frisk was the only exception to this rule and an incredibly obvious one at that. Their seat was set in the second to furthest row in the back just shy of having a window seat. The closest human child, they had noted on their first day here, had been seated three seats in front of them, and that particular boy was known for spending more time in detention than listening to their teacher's lessons.

But Frisk didn't care much. They would much rather be surrounded by the children that actually accepted them, and whenever they would sit down, it was clear by the multitude of smiles and wagging tails that they were among such a crowd.

Today, especially, they found that a great number of smiles were thrown their way as they took their seat. Returning the smile, they felt curiosity itch at the back of their mind and immediately pulled out their spiral for notes and their spiral for "notes."

Seeing the spiral, the child seated beside them could hardly stop wriggling. Having no arms, they snagged a chewed up pencil between their teeth, awaiting the note Frisk was scribbling.

The final bell rang just as Frisk finished writing the note. _What's got everyone so excited?_ They handed it to their friend, turning their attention on the teacher's monotonous roll call.

The teacher's words were nearly drowned out by the frantic oral scribbling of their friend, and before she was even halfway done with roll, Frisk found a wad of paper that had been catapulted by an exceptionally strong tail sitting on their desk. Crinkling the paper open, they read the sloppy words. _Yo! Everyone's planning on going outside during lunch to have a massive snowball fight!_

A smirk touched Frisk's lips at the thought of snow poffs whizzing through the air and slamming against tree trunks and fluffy jackets. _Everyone? Like,_ everyone _everyone?_

They passed the paper again as the teacher got closer to calling out their name.

 _Well, okay so not_ everyone _everyone, but Snowy convinced a few of the human kids to come and join in!_

 _Cool! How'd they do that?_

 _Something about promising that he'd invite them to his next birthday party if they really enjoyed themselves. His dad is so totally awesome with his rad jokes and all, and I bet he's gonna have a special routine in mind just for the occasion!_

"Frisk!"

Their pencil halted before it reached the paper. Snapping their head up, they realized that the teacher had been trying to get their attention. Definitely not a good start to the day.

"Present," they chimed, hoping it was enough.

She sighed, pressing a pointed finger to her wrinkled forehead. A few gray strands had managed to fly loose of her tight bun and dangled in her face, making her look older and more flustered than she actually was. "I thought we spoke about your name situation."

Frisk blanched. Not this lost cause again. "What about my name, ma'am?"

"You still have no last name listed in the school records." The teacher snatched her hands away from her face, standing stock straight before the entire class who had, naturally, turned their eyes on the outcast near the back. "You need one."

"Not all of us have last names." Frisk squeezed their pencil tightly. They could feel the yellow paint chipping off with the force of their nails grating against the wood.

"Yes, not all of the _monsters_ have last names. _You_ are a _human_ with human parents—somewhere—and their last name is your last name."

Their cheeks reddened a bit. "My parent's name is Toriel, formerly known as Toriel Dreemurr. But she's moved on and started a new part of her life."

"Frisk…"

"If my mom doesn't need a last name, then I shouldn't either. It's my choice. I'm part of a monster family, and some monster families don't have last names. It's just a tradition for the older lines."

Scrunching her thin brows, the teacher shot an icy glare directly at Frisk, and they could feel the stare of every child in the classroom, human and monster alike, locked onto them trapped in a prison of aged wood and old doodles.

"Your 'monster family' traditions make it difficult to place you in the correct categories within the school system as is, and besides, a monster family is…lacking for a human child."

Frisk's teeth clamped around their tongue until pain shot through their skull. Who had given her the right?

"I'll give you another chance to take it up with your 'parent' at home before I take more drastic measures."

"Sorry about earlier, Frisk." The young boy sat cross-legged beside them on the chilly bench outside.

All around them, snow poffs big and small were zooming through the air. Each _splat_ of snow against fabric was followed by a flurry of laughter from the children darting around the outdoor lunch tables. Most of them were some of the younger monsters, their ages ranging from about ten to twelve, but a few human children of the same ages had come out to join them just as Frisk's friend promised. There may have only been five or six, but it was definitely a start.

Frisk, their friend, and the boy, though, were sitting on the sidelines munching away at the sandwiches they'd been packed that day by their parents. Fighting, even with snowballs. had never been Frisk's forte, and besides, it wasn't as though their friend had the option to play. They couldn't leave them sitting by themselves while everyone else had a blast right in front of him. As for Jamie, their human friend, Frisk guessed they just weren't much of a fighter themselves.

"Mrs. Fingleston just makes me so…so…" Their friend lashed out with their little legs, kicking futilely at the air before their perch. Frisk placed a hand out to ensure their lunch didn't slip from their lap with their motions. "Yo, why does she gotta be so cranky all the time."

"I bet it's because Mr. Fingleston just doesn't give it to her right anymore," Jamie spat out through a mouthful of peanut butter and banana.

Frisk blushed at his bluntness. The birds and the bees hadn't exactly been something that Toriel had brought up yet, and most of the humans they were around didn't talk much to them as it was. Not that they were wholly ignorant, but it was still an odd subject for them.

Their friend, though, wasn't quite so modest about it as they chuckled around the last few crumbs of their chips. "Jeez, can you picture someone like _that_ getting freaky in the sheeties?"

Both the boys shared a laugh, but Frisk stayed silent, just watching the clouds of white pass by and arch through the air. One rain of poffs cutting through the air on the right; a retaliation of snow on the left.

 _Splat!_

One rather large snow poff splattering all across the remainder of Frisk's sandwich.

"Oh, crap!" The little spider monster that had lobbed the projectile rushed over to the trio sitting on the bench. Their eyes wide, their first set of hands tugging nervously at their jacket, they hissed out, "I didn't see you there, Frisk. I'm really, really sorry!"

Wiping the snow from their now sopping lunch, Frisk offered the scraggly monster a warm smile. "It's no big deal. I was almost done with it anyways."

They were actually barely done with half the pimento when the poff had landed, but it truly didn't bother them. Toriel had been planning on trying out a new recipe for chocolate pie that night, and they were eager to eat as big a slice as they could.

Standing up, they excused themselves from the group with their spoiled lunch in hand. It was a quick detour around the battlefield to slip through the glass doors to the cafeteria where the voices of several hundred children's voices bounced off the walls and high ceilings. The cafeteria was nearly the largest room in the entire building second only to the theater building—a room that struck awe in each person that walked through it courtesy of Mettaton's donations and renovations. A good half of the student body was currently sitting at the little wooden tables munching on either homemade lunches or mysterious looking meat and veggie piles served on black plastic trays. Frisk gave a chuckle at the memory of Toriel fighting with the school board to ensure the school got more quality lunches. Passing by a student picking at a blackened patty between two stiff buns, they realized that the details must still be in the works.

Their mouth stretched out in a taught line as they passed along the outskirts of the sitting area. The only reason that it took so long for Toriel, the _principal_ , to enact something as basic as that was because she was a monster. She wasn't some precious human with a short stature or furless skin or narrow-minded traditions. No, despite the drop in detention visits, the increase in grades, the spike in donations and grants given in the past year, Toriel was still only a monster in their eyes.

A large _thunk_ shook the bin they tossed their food away in, and several nearby students took notice. One in particular showed a particular interest in them, throwing them a familiar glare. Only one other person had given them that icy glare and that had been just before she had lobbed a hailstorm of spears at them as they fled to Hotland.

Frisk took large steps towards the open corridor that would lead them to the hallway and then to the sanctity of their next class. After just a few strides, though, their progress was halted by the sound of the bell and the sudden rush of children that began to swarm their path. They were locked in a myriad of shuffling legs and colliding shoulders, and they could only hope that the presence they could feel behind them was meeting with the same issues.

Wriggling past a group of particularly tall boys, Frisk felt a sharp knock against their shin. White tile rushed up to meet their face, but they managed to shove their arms out just in time to catch themselves, jolting their shoulders but otherwise leaving them untouched.

A boot stamped down on their hand with a loud cracking of joints. Frisk bit back the yelp of pain as they looked up at the perpetrator: the same child that had shot them a predatory gaze sauntered away with little more than a backwards glance and a smirk. They flipped their hood over their dark hair before sticking a hand out, palm upwards. Another boy slapped a palm down into their hand, and the former pocketed something green.

A warm wetness threatened to spill from their eyes, but they managed to choke it down. They tried to fumble back to their feet instead, but a harsh jab in their side easily knocked them off balance. Another try and someone crushed their ankle underfoot, sending them crashing back down. They tried again and again to crawl back up to their feet, but each time another foot slammed into them, all but trampling them into the ground.

They didn't want to look up. Cold eyes, malicious sneers—it was always the same when the children saw them so vulnerable.

Feet continued to trample them, bruising their skin beneath the thick sweater they wore. A minute passed and another with nothing but icy tiles and painful, mud covered boots and sneakers jostling them to and fro as they tried to crawl to safety.

"Frisk!"

Finally, they turned their head up to find the source of the voice. Through the crowd, they saw their little scaly friend dart around the shoving bodies with Jamie and the lanky Snowdrake form of Snowy trailing close behind. The trio quickly made it over to them, and both monsters fanned out as best as they could to give Frisk more space. Jamie grasped their shoulders and yanked them to their feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked them, dusting them off.

Frisk gave a quick nod and a reassuring smile.

"Yo, guys? We should probably leave."

Glancing around, Frisk shuddered at the disgusted glances they were receiving from their human classmates. Worse yet, they could swear they saw Mrs. Fingleston's sharp features making their way through the crowd.

Jamie unceremoniously snatched up Frisk's wrist and began shoving through the now dwindling crowd. The two monster children trailed behind them, Snowy flaring out his crest at any student who tried to get to past him.

The warning bell suddenly rang out when they entered the main hallway. Its harsh peals added to the chaos as every child began to dart to their next classes. Much to Frisk's surprise, however, their friends did not split off in the direction of their own classrooms.

"Won't you all be late?" they asked.

"Don't sweat it," Snowy piped up. "We've been late before."

Jamie twisted around to smile at them. "You look like you could still use some company, anyways."

They came to another hallway, this one almost abandoned as most of the kids were likely already in their seats. Frisk could see their classroom further down, the door still open to any final stragglers.

With a smile, they picked up their pace. Maybe they could convince their teacher to write a note or two to excuse them, at least.

"There you are, my child!" Toriel held out her hand as she watched Frisk shuffle towards her.

"Hi, mom." They offered up a small smile as they passed the door to her office, taking her hand. "Sorry I'm late. Snowy wanted to try out some new jokes before I left."

"That's quite alright. It's only been a few minutes, and it does give me a chance to say hello to a few of my students." She gave their hand a reassuring squeeze.

Frisk sucked in a breath and quickly shot their gaze downwards. This did not go unnoticed by Toriel, though, as she unfurled her fingers to look over their hand.

"Frisk! What happened?" She gingerly held up the bruised appendage with one hand while the other lightly traced out the discolored splotch of skin.

With a shrug, Frisk pulled her towards the front doors. Tugging put a great strain on their abused shoulder, but they ignored it as they spoke. "There was a snowball fight today at lunch, and I fell down. One of the kids accidentally stepped on my hand, but I'm okay."

"You aren't hurt anywhere else, are you?" She looked down at Frisk's sweater covered body with unease, but she could see no other marks.

Pushing the doors open and stepping out into the sunlight, Frisk replied, "Just a little sore. I think it'll go away after a hot bath tonight."

The bruised flesh along their legs and torso ached and pulsed with each step they took, each lie they spoke, but Frisk didn't mind it. The pain was nothing compared to the relief and happiness on their mother's face, and they were determined that nothing would wipe that expression away, not if they could help it.

Besides, it had just been another ordinary day.

 **Hey there! I just wanted to say thank you so much for the astonishing number of views and follows I've received in such a short time. Normally it takes at least a few chapters for my fics to take off so well, but this was a pleasant surprise.**

 **Also, just a reminder, you can still find the posting schedule and updates/alterations on my Tumblr. My username is quietauthor13 and my blog name is** _ **To Write is to Live Again and Again**_ **. The blog is also the preferred place for questions and such outside of general critiques (please save those for reviews if you deign to give them!). If you like, you can also search the tag #Devils Don't Disappear, and it should take you directly to any postings about this particular fic.**

 **Thanks to anyone who is reading this! Read, review, and enjoy! =^.^=**


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